


Paper Planes and Playground Games

by cerie



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, First Time, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 19:29:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen/Will; spoilers through Sanctuary for None.  Magnus decides she's ready to have another child and so, in typical Magnus style, baby comes before courtship and while it's all backwards, Will wouldn't have it any other way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Planes and Playground Games

**Author's Note:**

> For Sam, who has been bugging me for babyfic and I finally provided.

In hindsight, Will should have learned how to say no to Magnus by now. In practice, however, there was a very short list of things he _wouldn’t_ do for Magnus and most of those things involved death and dismemberment so, really, being a sperm donor didn’t qualify. He’d never really thought about being a parent aside from the theoretical and he knew if he _did_ ever have a kid, he’d do right by him. Treat him or her like a child is supposed to be treated and not how his dad had jerked him around.

So it turned out he said yes to sperm donation before really considering what it meant and then, of course, he had to make awkward attempts at follow up questions while Magnus’s eyes were lit up like stars. That too was hard considering Will had never really imagined Magnus looking at _him_ that way, or with that kind of joy. It was a little intoxicating and he figured he was in way, way over his head.

“Why...me, exactly? I mean, I’m not exactly a genius or anything. Surely...I mean, you’ve got that thing with Tesla and I’m pretty sure half vampire super genius sperm is better than Zimmerman stock.”

Magnus gave him an amused look, eyes still twinkling, and shook her head. “Think that through, Will. Do we _really_ want more than one Nikola running about? Besides, you’re plenty intelligent or I wouldn’t have hired you and you _are_ quite handsome. You’re a Harvard graduate, pleasant disposition...really, you’re an excellent choice. There’s also the fact that we’re close friends and colleagues and there’s simply no way Nikola and I could ever be on good terms long enough to co-parent. I want to be a mother again and, now that we’ve gone underground and I can make my own rules instead of kowtowing to the UN, I feel like I deserve a bit of holiday. A bit of...maternity leave, as it were.”

It made sense, completely rational and logical sense, actually, and that was sort of disturbing. To Will, it seemed like maybe Zimmerman Spawn had been on Magnus’s to do list back during her 113 years of zen and that was a little awkward considering he’d been with Abby then. He wasn’t with her now, though. Just too complicated with the Sanctuary going underground and having to keep secrets and while he missed her, he didn’t have regrets. It had been a good relationship and she was a sweet girl but nobody ever lasted long in the Sanctuary unless they were _in_ the network. In a way, Will felt like it was always going to end like this. He was just glad Abby hadn’t actually died before he figured it out.

So, he agreed, more or less willingly and the process didn’t seem to be too involved on his end. Magnus, on the other hand, had to inject herself with hormones and take drugs to prepare herself for embryo implantation; apparently that stuff was a lot harder on the body during in vitro and with her unique physiology, it was a crapshoot at best. She’d frozen her eggs a while back, some fancy new cryogenics meant for long term storage, and it took three tries before they had any success.

So then it was the waiting game while Magnus laid back and ate bon bons and kicked around the Sanctuary (yeah, right; she was just as involved as usual except now Will, Biggie and Henry felt like it was okay to pull rank on her and send her back to bed when she’d been up too long) and it felt strange, in a way, to know that he was biologically going to be a parent in nine months but emotionally, well. Magnus didn’t really seem too interested in the rest of those things that Will (admittedly in a caveman kind of way) thought went along with the whole mother of my child schtick.

Awkward, yes, but Will had experienced much, much worse in the past four years. He could handle it.

***

Five months in and Will and Biggie had managed to drill into Magnus’s head that, yes, she did actually need to take her own advice and slow down and _stop_ working. Henry had put a tracer on her laptop and tablet so that whenever she logged in, they knew about it, and Will had been in the middle of coordinating a construction project in Argentina (or underground in Argentina, as it were) when he’d gotten a text from Henry:

> Boss is at it again. You get it this time, I’m playing Mass Effect.

Will sighed and contemplated, albeit briefly, pawning it off on Biggie before heading up to Magnus’s rooms to get her to knock off with the work. It wasn’t that paperwork was _physically_ taxing, no, but it was emotionally stressful and she needed to be relaxing more often than not. While Magnus seemed to think she was invincible, truth was, she wasn’t in the physical prime to have a child and needed to really take it easy so that both mother _and_ child were in the best of health.

Magnus had built her new rooms at the top of a high spire with a curving staircase that felt an awful lot like Rapunzel, or at least the Rapunzel that Will knew from stories as a kid. It was a suite, more than a room, and there was a little sunroom built entirely of glass with windowseats along with a palatial bathroom and Magnus’s own, personal bedroom. It was the bedroom Magnus was in and she was sprawled out on the bed in a button-down shirt that looked like it must have belonged to Biggie, bare legs and, for possibly the first time ever, chipped toenail polish in a wine color. That was practically covered in mud, by Magnus standards, and Will cleared his throat to drag her attention away from the tablet she shouldn’t even have, much less be using right now.

“Henry’s got a tracer on you. You’re not supposed to be working right now, Magnus. It’s supposed to be Bejeweled and reading trashy novels and being pampered, lady.” Magnus rolled her eyes but patted the bed lightly beside her, inviting him to sit down. Will arched a brow at that, no way in hell was he going to just plop right down next to his _boss_ in _bed_ but he did settle on the edge; what’s the worst that could happen? She was already pregnant.

“I tried to paint my toes and discovered, to my chagrin, that I am actually not that bendy. Said luxury activity thwarted, I then decided my efforts were best directed toward something productive, hence, shipping manifests. Surely you can’t ban me from anything regarding my Sanctuary? Hmm?”

Yeah. Very few things he wouldn’t do for Magnus. Still, even if she didn’t want him involved in the traditional sense, that was still _his_ son or daughter growing in there and Will was going to pull rank whether Magnus cared for it or not. He plucked the tablet from her hands, turned it off, and set it out of reach before crooking his fingers at her.

“C’mon. Give me the polish and I’ll do it. Don’t...even ask how I know how. It involves a ski trip and me getting the guilt laid on me when my date broke her leg coming off the lift.” Magnus huffed slightly but handed the polish over, a soft, pale lavender, along with cotton balls, polish remover and some sort of foot cream. Will busied himself with taking off the old polish first, methodical swipes along each of her toes, and with that done, he worked the cream in his hands and decided, because he was _that_ guy, that he’d throw in a foot massage too. 

He had been working his thumbs along the arch of one foot when Magnus let out a low, soft sound that sent shivers down his spine. He’d never heard _Helen Magnus_ make a sound that indecent, that sensual, that _relaxed_ and he was damn glad; Will was pretty sure if he’d heard that noise before now, he’d have been ruined for other women. 

It would have been lying to say he didn’t have a crush on his boss. It had been more of an infatuation in those early days, sensuality bred through mystery, but as their relationship had shifted from mentor and protege to the partners they were now, as they’d shifted personally to a warm, deep friendship on equal (more equal?) footing, the crush had deepened into something else entirely. Crush made it seem juvenile when, for all intents and purposes, Magnus had sort of become the standard by which he measured all other women.

Will was pretty sure this was what always happened with Magnus and her familiars; it wasn’t like most of the Five hadn’t been in love with her too.

Still, for all that he’d thought about it, it had just been idle fantasy and not something he’d ever really put any effort into. There’d been Abby, of course, but even outside of that, Magnus looking at him as something other than a friend had never really computed. Magnus making obscene, sexy noises while _his_ hands were all over her? Yeah. Never even got that far in his fantasy life.

He slid his hands a little higher up, massaging her calf, and switched to her other foot to give it the same treatment. He guessed he could have kept talking but somehow, the room had gotten a little tense and Will didn’t want to sound like an idiot babbling about Norwegian power crises when Magnus was relaxing and enjoying a rarely-taken bit of pleasure from her life. So he kept his mouth shut through the rest of the massage and painted her toes carefully, two coats, and didn’t speak again until she broke the silence.

“Thank you, darling. That was lovely.”

Huh. Darling. Will had never been a “darling” before but he couldn’t really say he disliked it. Not when Magnus was doing the pet-naming, anyway. He sort of mock-saluted, breaking the tension, and took his leave _out_ of the Queen’s tower for the time being.

***

From that point on, whenever Magnus needed to be reined in or when the Queen herself needed something, Will got the short straw. It wasn’t really a short straw, though, because he’d always liked spending time with Magnus and this was a lot different than work had ever been; Magnus in her personal space was a whole different creature, softer, and Will was fascinated to see how _Helen_ ticked instead of her more reserved Dr. Magnus counterpart.

Soft or not, Magnus was still the HBIC and three AM texts for ice cream from the kitchen were met with a yes ma’am and delivery within twenty minutes. Will hadn’t bothered with putting on clothes considering Kate was still down in Hollow Earth with Garrus, most everyone else was asleep and if Henry saw him in just his boxers, well. He’d live. He’d gotten the ice cream (Biggie’s homemade strawberry) and gotten up Magnus’s stairs in fifteen minutes, a new record, and was rewarded when she opened the door with a wide smile (and dimple!) on her face.

“Oh, thank God. I really should have thought about the stairs when I built this damned tower but I’d hoped it’d keep me a bit separate from the rest of you lot. Come in. The least you can do is share with me, yes?”

Will had just brought the container and one spoon, figuring Magnus would bite his fingers off for getting in the way of her ice cream but they’d been through hell and back together. Swapping a little spit via spoon wasn’t going to break them. Still, he decided Magnus might better handle the ice cream and handed it over, spoon and all, before stepping into her room and settling on the bed beside her.

That was another thing that had changed in the last few weeks. Magnus seemed to want him in her bed more often than not and Will was happy enough to oblige. It was cuddling, more or less, but neither of them really put a label on it. Will didn’t want it to _stop_ and he was afraid if he asked Magnus what was up, she’d close off and shut him out like she had most of the past year. It was different now, though, especially considering what she’d asked of him and while he’d given it freely, it was hard not to feel a connection to the woman carrying his child. Completely caveman, yes, but biological imperatives still had strong influences on the psyche.

Will opened his arms and nodded slightly and it was less than thirty seconds between that and Magnus sliding up against him, head tucked against his shoulder while she meticulously licked the ice cream spoon clean. She’d taken to wearing low-cut and loose cotton gowns to bed these days and it took...more than Will was willing to admit to ignore it. He’d never had a fetish for pregnant women or anything sordid like that but _Magnus_ pregnant established a new set of fantasies that Will hadn’t even considered before. He covered his own physical reaction by sliding his hand into her hair to play with the glossy locks, earning a sweet sigh in response. Magnus liked having her hair played with and Will was more than happy to do it; Abby being a rare exception, he’d always loved brunettes.

“Will? May I ask you a question that’s quite personal?”

Will barely bit back a quip about how carrying his spawn in her uterus gave her a free pass because Magnus’s voice was soft and hitched with emotion and her eyes were softer still. Will’s own voice was a little lower than usual, almost husky, and it felt like he was trying to talk around a lump in his throat. He had no idea why he was reacting that way except, well, soft, pretty, pregnant Magnus and he was so not in a place to resist that. Not now and not ever. So in lieu of a response, he nodded, and Magnus took that as a signal to keep talking.

“Have you ever thought about what it would be like if we were...actually together? When I asked you to do this for me, it was under the expectation of our continued friendship and partnership. I had no romantic designs on you whatsoever, I just felt like you’d make a good father figure and your genetics are particularly desirable to me. It was very clinical, I assure you, and very much platonic. But now, these past weeks...I rather like being taken care of. I rather like being...cared for and, well, loved. I feel loved. It’s been a very long time since I’ve felt this way.”

Of all the things Will expected Magnus to come out with late at night, that hadn’t been one of them and he was fumbling frantically for the right thing to say. Pouring his heart out might scare her off and make her think he’d had a weird, creepy obsession with her and playing it off might hurt her. Neither was an acceptable option and it felt a hell of a lot like bouncing through a minefield on a pogo stick and hoping for the best. He brushed his thumb against her shoulder as he tried to find his words, the right words, the ones that would make her feel safe and loved and not overwhelmed.

“I think about it all the time, Magnus. I wonder what it’d be like if you kissed me, or I kissed you, and sometimes I think a little further than that but I’m a guy and you’re gorgeous so you’ve gotta give me a pass, right?”

 _Look cute, Zimmerman._ Magnus, for her part, had a stunned look on her face like she hadn’t exactly considered the possibility that her furtive feelings were confirmed and before Will could say something to fill the increasingly-tense silence, Magnus had her mouth on his and her tongue was sliding against his lower lip, seeking entrance. Her lips were cool from ice cream and tasted like strawberries and, as cliche as it sounded, _Magnus_ and Will wasn’t about to turn her down. He slid his hands into her hair and deepened the kiss, teeth nipping at her lightly, and got rewarded with Magnus sliding into his lap to straddle him.

He was already half-hard just from looking at her in a sweet, lowcut nightie and now with her pressing and rubbing up against him, he was gone. Maybe he ought to be embarrassed but, hey, she was already pregnant with his kid and he was a guy. She had to expect that kind of thing when she was walking around with an already-perfect rack cranked to eleven because of pregnancy.

 _His_ child. This caveman thing had its merits.

He took a chance and slid one of his hands down from her hair to cup her breast and tease her nipple through thin, sheer cotton and got rewarded with Magnus rolling her hips and grinding against his lap. Before he could get the chance to do much else, she’d whipped the gown off over her head in one smooth movement and Will, in response, bent his head to lick and suck at the nipple he’d been teasing slowly with his thumb.

He’d never really been the kind of guy to fall into whether or not he was a breast man or an ass man and, instead, said something more creative like the curve of a woman’s hip or the spot between neck and shoulder but right now, in this moment, Will was most definitely a breast man. He teased, ever so gently, with his teeth and was rewarded with another sigh and Magnus squirming again. He sucked once, long and hard, and when Magnus tugged at his hair hard enough that he was pretty sure he was missing a patch, Will lifted his head and gave her a cocksure grin.

“Can I help you, Magnus?”

She rolled her eyes and moved to climb off, which had Will clamoring to make it up to her, to tell her that he was sorry, but she laid a finger against his mouth and slid her panties off instead. It wasn’t _that_ loud, silk hitting a hardwood floor, but it felt audible to Will. He didn’t have time to process it before she was tugging at his boxers, though, and he lifted his hips to oblige her taking them off before tugging her close again. This time, when she settled in his lap, she took him into her achingly slowly and as she curled her fingers into his shoulder, Will slid his hand down to work his thumb against her clit in slow circles.

She was wet, so wet, and when she started to move _that_ was audible in a way that couldn’t even be chalked up to living in the moment or being in awe. Magnus closed her eyes and bit at her lower lip while she moved, completely lost in pleasure, and the soft sounds she made seemed so restrained compared to just how tight and hot and wet she was around him. It seemed that the more she felt, the quieter she got, and the only cue to her orgasm was a hitch in her breath and a flush that spread down her face, neck and chest.

Oh, and _yeah_ , the fact that she had his cock in a vise-grip and the spasms didn’t show any sign of stopping. She was quiet, maybe, but Christ, she felt good and Will tried his best to work her through it before losing it himself. He managed two and a half thrusts before he was coming too and when she slumped, slightly, to lay her forehead against his, it was all Will could do to stroke his hand through sweat-damp hair and murmur sweet things to her, tell her he loved her, tell her that she made him happy.

“I should have done this long, long before now. Again, yes?”

***

Katherine Clare Magnus-Zimmerman was born at approximately 3:00 AM local time and greeted her father, her mother, her very doting uncle and godfather with blood-curdling screams that proved both healthy lungs and a frustrating case of colic. For all she was a fussy baby, though, nobody really cared. It had been a long, long time since the Sanctuary had any babies running around, especially since Erika was raising Alistair back in England, and it had taken some very stern words to get Henry to let go and substitute Will’s daughter for his own fiancee and son via Skype.

Biggie fussed over the baby under auspices of playing nurse and it had taken an eyebrow from Magnus and a few cool words about how she’d really, really like something to eat (seriously, only Magnus could want a full meal after ten hours of labor) to get him to relinquish the infant to Will, who’d never actually been in the room for a birth before, much less the birth of his _own child_.

“It is so cliche to say she’s perfect, isn’t it?” Will actually hadn’t looked at Magnus at all since the baby had been put into his arms and, miraculously, she’d calmed down the crying and settled for making little smacking noises with her lips. Her skin was red and her hair, what little of it there was, looked like it might be blonde. Will figured it might darken up later, his own hair was brown, but for now, she looked like Magnus through and through. 

The mouth, though, was definitely his and so were the eyelashes, long and dark. It was too early to tell about the nose but Will secretly hoped it was Magnus’s; he’d always thought her nose was excessively cute, especially when she wrinkled it like she was, oh, right about now.

“Absolutely cliche. That said, I do believe it may be allowed, considering. She’s your first, after all, and even with her being my second, I’m inclined to say she’s perfect from head to tiny, teensy little toe.” Will looked up and smiled, then, beaming at Magnus and if her smile was any indication of how he looked, he had to look like a complete goober right about now, grinning from ear to ear.

“You, missy, are gonna be the most spoiled princess in the history of the world. Daddy’s gonna get you a pony and a kitten and anything else you might possibly ever even think about in that pretty little head of yours. Oh yes, oh yes you will. Anything you want. Two of them. Maybe even three.”

Magnus laughed, short and sharp, and Will looked up from the baby to catch her shaking her head even though her eyes were sparkling with mirth.

“Come now, you’ll have her unbearable by three. Raising a child...it’s the journey of a lifetime, Will. It’s very much a big commitment and...I would understand if you would rather not...formally, you know? We hardly need to be traditional.”

Will shook his head. “Nope, we’re not traditional, but some things are gonna be. Shall we begin?”

Will was pretty sure he was blind from the sheer wattage of that smile from Magnus but he’d take it, considering the last thing he’d seen was his perfect daughter and the beautiful, brilliant woman who’d given him the chance to have one.

Yeah. Life was good.


End file.
